The Youngest Science. Notes of a Medicine-Watcher
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figure standing alone in the center of the lawn behind the house, looking down at the grass, turning in a slow circle, scanning the ground. From the time of my earliest childhood I knew this to be a mild signal of trouble for my mother, trouble for the family. Sometimes she stood there for only a few moments, sometimes for as long as five minutes. Then, in the quickest of movements, she would reach down to pluck the four-leaf clover she was hunting and come back to the house. If I was there on the back porch, watching as she came, she would laugh at me and say, always the same sentence, “The…
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